Deceitful Game

Chapter 177, Listening Pavilion, cleared!

Mingpo lowered her gaze.

He patted the girl's back, his pupils emitting a faint, dim yellow light.

That color is clearly reminiscent of the end times.

It looks quite warm and cozy at this moment.

It's like a bedside lamp, or like the sunset at dusk.

It's like a family reunion dinner—though it's the end of the day, it can still bring a peaceful sleep.

"Maybe," Mingpo said slowly, "that Daddy didn't leave after all."

"Really?"

Chizuko's voice held a hint of hope.

Although Mingpa is known for lying, this statement might not be true.

Ryoshu included his daughter, who had been burned to death, in the scroll painting "Hell Screen," thus etching her image into the eternity of art. He finally died when the painting was completed.

If Chizuko is a paradox, like Yoshihide's deceased daughter—then her "Hell Screen" scroll should have been preserved here.

But clearly, no.

What if we look at it from the opposite perspective?

If we say—

Chizuko, who is about to inherit the title of "Hell Transformation," is actually the painter Yoshihide, while the father who "sacrificed for the birth of this art" is actually the "daughter"?

"You weren't the one who set up this mission, were you, to send the challengers to the lobby on the first floor to search for intelligence?"

Mingpo asked softly, "Is this a task assigned by Father?"

"yes----"

Although Chizuko didn't quite follow Amber's train of thought, she still answered the questions honestly.

Despite being a dungeon boss, it was behaving like a child.

Or rather—she was originally a carefree child.

It was only the deceptive game that forced her onto this bloody path.

Was this piano here back then?

Mingpo asked.

"some."

Chizuko replied, "But it's not that old yet—"

Unbeknownst to her, Mingpo had already ended the hypnosis session without her noticing.

However, Chizuko still couldn't escape Myoha's control—she was even more deeply entangled.

With this level of trust, such control can last for a very long time.

However, instead of abusing this skill to kill Chizuko with a dagger, Mingbo earnestly helped her solve the mystery.

He was also somewhat moved when he saw Chizuko.

Mingpo thought of himself. Or rather, he thought of his childhood.

Mingbo even felt a little envious of Chizuko.

Both he and Chizuko's father were con artists, and both brought a good life to their families. They were also rarely home, and he and Chizuko later became con artists themselves—even reaching the level of Zhou Zhiqingqian.

Chizuko's father was undoubtedly a loser.

He couldn't stay by Chizuko's side for long, not because he had any grand ideals or anything he had to do. It was simply because "he didn't have enough leverage."

For a conman to use his influence to his advantage is a very extravagant thing, unless there is something he absolutely has to do.

Those who are below the level of Zhou Zhiqing lead would find it difficult to pay this expensive expense.

In a sense, those who deceive the world are like those who go to work and earn money in developed countries when their own country's economy is underdeveloped. If they can save money, they can easily become wealthy after returning home.

However, if you want to earn money and spend it locally, the income from working is simply not enough. If you want to "live a good life," not only will your meager savings evaporate in an instant, but you could even go bankrupt if you encounter even the slightest setback.

Only by having a "stable career" in the local area—for example, becoming a con artist above Zhou Zhiqingqian—can one barely manage to live a relatively decent life.

Even at Zhou Zhiqingqian's level, Chizuko's father's income was still unstable. This meant his win rate was low, or the organization he joined took a high cut. Just paying for the entrance fee was already a struggle, making it impossible to balance the expenses of the game with the costs of the game itself. Therefore, he chose to leave the game for his family's sake, leaving his peaceful life vulnerable to destruction by other players.

He gave up the fight against fate.

It's like going to the hospital for a physical exam, having a general idea in mind, and then choosing not to look at the report.

Plug your ears; it won't solve anything, but it will make you feel a little better.

Even so—

Myoha still believes that Chizuko is happy.

Because of his father, he was willing to give up everything to return to their side.

Although he fell from his new social class again after that because he couldn't support himself and even his talent became mediocre, he always stayed by Chizuko's side.

That----

What about Ming Jingxing?

What exactly did he want to do to leave Mingpo alone for over twenty years?

Mingpo grew up alone in solitude, chewing on the pain as if it were natural, and became the person she is today.

And now—looking at Chizuko, he seemed to see another version of himself.

A version of myself that is not so strong, not so resilient.

————If Ming Jingxing wasn't strong enough, if I wasn't strong enough————Wouldn't the one standing here now be him?

"dad?"

Seeing that Mingbo suddenly fell silent, Chizuko asked with some confusion.

She was a little scared, wondering if she had said something wrong.

If I say the wrong thing—will my father, who has finally come back, also leave?

At this moment, Chizuko has two "fathers" in her mind.

One of them has already returned and is playing the piano with her; the other is someone she made a promise with but hasn't returned yet.

She naturally asked one of the "fathers" why her father hadn't come back—and she herself didn't feel there was any illogical problem with it.

"Chizuko".

Mingpo said softly, "Have you ever thought about this—"

'

Your father has always been here.

"The mannequin you're afraid of is probably the clothes rack of your father that you see when you get up to go to the bathroom in the middle of the night."

"And that person dressed as a doctor is probably the one who tells you some bad news."

"The broken window is a picture frame that was shattered because of an argument."

"You're grabbing someone by the collar and trying to throw them because you remember seeing your parents fight like that, right?"

"And the Russian nesting doll is the ring you hid—the trigger that caused your parents to argue and quarrel."

"Your finger got caught in the piano keys, and you want to start over."

"The things you fear have all transformed into monsters and become part of this villa."

"—If we remove all these things, what is the purpose of this annex?"

These mechanisms were all set up by Chizuko's subconscious.

This is also why Minpak guessed that Chizuko's power was meant to trigger "Fear." Because the style of this instance looked a bit too "Silent Hill," he could even easily guess its prototype.

Although Chizuko's mind wasn't that twisted, the monsters and traps weren't that terrifying either.

But if we remove these things, then what is the purpose of this copy?

"The only thing you have no reason to hide."

Mingpo said softly, "It's a woman's hair hidden inside the piano, your mother's hair."

"That's not the riddle you left us—it's the riddle your father left you. The only real riddle in this dungeon that needs to be solved."

"He's always been here. Waiting for you—play it again, and the mystery will be solved."

"But you—you haven't come."

Mingpo spoke in a low voice, but suddenly felt a lightness in her body.

His control was released. Chizuko passed through Mingbo—she transformed into a ghost in the form of a young girl, but instead of attacking Mingbo, she eagerly began to play the piano keys.

Or perhaps, it was only then that she finally came to her senses and returned to her true self—not the seven or eight-year-old girl created by her own illusions.

At the other end of the chair, a man appeared.

He was the man in the photograph—Chizuko's father. He had been waiting there for a very long time—but he still had a smile on his face.

He nodded gratefully to Mingpo, then struck the piano keys.

Mingpo watched the father and daughter play their final duet from behind, and felt a sense of melancholy and sadness.

He felt that perhaps he wasn't as strong as he thought.